and Holley went away.

Bostil opened his door and stepped outside. The eastern ramparts of the
desert were bright red with the rising sun. With the night behind him
and the morning cool and bright and beautiful, Bostil did not suffer a
pang nor feel a regret. He walked around under the cottonwoods where
the mocking-birds were singing. The shrill, screeching bray of a burro
split the morning stillness, and with that the sounds of the awakening
village drowned that sullen, dreadful boom of the river. Bostil went in
to breakfast.

He encountered Lucy in the kitchen, and he did not avoid her. He could
tell from her smiling greeting that he seemed to her his old self
again. Lucy wore an apron and she had her sleeves rolled up, showing
round, strong, brown arms. Somehow to Bostil she seemed different. She
had been pretty, but now she was more than that. She was radiant. Her
blue eyes danced. She looked excited. She had been telling her aunt
something, and that worthy woman appeared at once shocked and
delighted. But Bostil's entrance had caused a mysterious break in
everything that had been going on, except the preparation of the
morning meal.

"Now I rode in on some confab or other, that's sure," said Bostil,
good-naturedly.

"You sure did, Dad," replied Lucy, with a bright smile.

"Wal, let me sit in the game," he rejoined.

"Dad, you can't even ante," said Lucy.

"Jane, what's this kid up to?" asked Bostil, turning to his sister.

"The good Lord only knows!" replied Aunt Jane, with a sigh.

"Kid? ... See here, Dad, I'm eighteen long ago. I'm grown up. I can do
as I please, go where I like, and anything.... Why, Dad, I could
get--married."

"Haw! haw!" laughed Bostil. "Jane, hear the girl."

"I hear her, Bostil," sighed Aunt Jane.

"Wal, Lucy, I'd just like to see you fetch some fool love-sick rider
around when I'm feelin' good," said Bostil.

Lucy laughed, but there was a roguish, daring flash in her eyes. "Dad,
you do seem to have all the young fellows scared. Some day maybe one
will ride along--a rider like you used to be--that nobody could
bluff.... And he can have me!"

"A-huh! ... Lucy, are you in fun?"

Lucy tossed her bright head, but did not answer.

"Jane, what's got into her?" asked Bostil, appealing to his sister.

"Bostil, she's in fun, of course," declared Aunt Jane. "Still, at that,
there's some sense in what she says. Come to your breakfast, now."

Bostil took his seat at the table, g